


For You

by tsukkiaf (haizukis)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:45:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4253394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haizukis/pseuds/tsukkiaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s not sure what to feel at this point. He hasn’t seen Kuroo such a long time. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>But how could he not go see him on their anniversary? </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	For You

**Author's Note:**

> for kurotsukki week! 
> 
> **day 1:** visiting

Tsukishima stands under the hot stream of water and keeps his hand pressed against the shower wall. It had been a long, slow day at school and practice, yet somehow he made it through.

But his day isn’t over yet.

He shuts the water off and steps out of the tub, blindly feeling for his towel. He grabs it and absentmindedly pats his body dry. He takes his glasses from the counter and wipes the steam from the lenses with his towel.

Taking his clean set of clothes from the counter, he slips into them, not sure whether he should be getting dressed quickly -- in order to get on the train to Tokyo faster.

He’s not sure what to feel at this point. He hasn’t seen Kuroo such a long time.

_But how could he not go see him on their anniversary?_

Tsukishima goes through his room to make sure he has everything he needs. Late afternoon sunlight still filters through his bedroom window, giving everything an orange tint, not unlike Karasuno colors.

He turns to leave the room, but pauses near his dresser.

They don’t have many photos together. The one sitting on Tsukishima’s dresser shows the two, cheeks pressed together, smiles natural and relaxed. Kuroo had given it to Tsukishima one year ago, today.

Tsukishima feels his chest constrict at the sight of Kuroo’s shit-eating grin that he hasn’t seen in so long. He reaches up to run his fingers through a thin coat of dust covering the frame before stepping into the hallway and out of his house.

~

The train to Tokyo is decently packed. Many people leave Miyagi for the weekend to escape into the city to forget about their worries back home. They all seem to leave at the same time and clutter the train and bustle with excitement. Tsukishima stands, hand hanging loosely onto the silver bar above him. The train isn’t so crowded as to where he’s pressed against others, though he can’t but help notice the other passengers.

He tries to focus on anything but the couple seated only a few feet away from him. Even though he has his earbuds in, and his music is at ungodly levels, he can’t help but glance at the two every few moments.

He catches at how they look at each other and how despite the fact that they are surrounded by an entire car full of people, they exist within their own space. Tsukishima watches as the man says something under his breath with a smile and how the woman’s eyes widen in joy, and how she grins and covers her mouth as she laughs.

Tsukishima wonders if she feels electricity run up and down her arms when her boyfriend traces his fingertips along the veins of her wrists, just like he used to.

~

Tsukishima doesn’t like the smell of flowers anymore.

He can still remember the time when he did, how he and Kuroo would visit botanical gardens together, and how many hot, sticky afternoons were spent draped across each other on a cool bench surrounded by splashes of color.  

Now just a whiff of the buds’ sickly sweet scent makes him want to close his eyes and press his hand over his mouth and nose.

He quickly grabs Kuroo’s favorite flowers and leaves the thickly perfumed air of the store.

~

The spot is laden with flowers and candles.

The sun has disappeared below the horizon, leaving the world to the moon and stars.

Someone had brought a large picture of Kuroo, propping it up against the corner’s lamp post.

 _It’s a good picture of him,_ Tsukishima thinks. It’s from the chest up, and his usual devious grin is replaced by a genuine smile, probably mid-laugh.

Tsukishima remembers that laugh, how it started from deep within his chest and worked its way up. How Kuroo always clutched at his chest when he laughed, or how he threw his head back and laughed until tears formed at the corners of his eyes.

Tsukishima misses that laugh.

The picture seems to be the center of the memorial, a small sea of flowers and small candles flowing outwards from it like ripples. A  few envelops lay here and there with Kuroo’s name scribbled in the recipient’s spot. Someone had even brought a volleyball and placed it near the picture.

Tsukishima stands before the sea of flowers clutching his small bouquet. Every so often, someone passes by and pauses. They look at the picture and the piles of stuff for the dead boy and shake their heads. They press their hands together and pray before walking away.

Tsukishima wonders if they knew him. They were right by his house, after all.

~

The cemetery is still.

Only a few people are there, walking between the graves. Some kneel by the looming pieces of stone, some of them smiling, and some with tears carving wet paths down their cheeks.

Tsukishima slowly makes his way to Kuroo’s grave. He wants to visit him -- always wants to; but not like this.

_Never like this._

He wants to take Kuroo into his arms and feel his chest rising and falling with his breaths. He wants to sit on the couch, and run his hand through Kuroo’s messy hair, absentmindedly, as they watch dumb documentaries together. He wants to see Kuroo standing in his doorway, waiting for him to get ready for their date. He wants to feel the warmth of Kuroo’s skin against his and his breath on his neck. He wants to feel Kuroo’s hand intertwined with his and he wants Kuroo to see him saying “I love you,” for the hundredth time that night. He wants Kuroo to feel. And breathe. And taste, and see, and hear.

He wants Kuroo to be _alive_. At the price of everything.

He looks down at the gray stone embedded into the ground. Kuroo’s name is engraved in it; nothing special. It blends in with the hundreds of other headstones in the cemetery. Tsukishima could have walked right past the headstone had he not known who lies beneath.

He draws in a sharp breath and tears sting his eyes.

Tsukishima turns the flowers in his hand before squatting to place them next to another bouquet, probably placed there by Kuroo’s family or Kenma.

He lets his fingers trace Kuroo’s name before he presses his hand flat against the cold stone.

“I miss you,” he whispers. “I -- ah, I think about you a lot still. People keep telling me that it’s time to move on, but I can’t, you know? I still feel like you’re here sometimes.”

Tsukishima feels the heat behind his eyes, his vision becoming blurred with hot tears that finally, _finally_ spill onto his cheeks.

“I hope that you’re okay with the fact that you spent your last day with me,” he continues softly, ”even though you didn’t know it at the time. The nurses told me that you didn’t die until a little after they hooked you up to the machines and tried to save you. So you must’ve had time to think about it, right?”

Tsukishima shakes his head. “You deserved a lot more, Kuroo. I just want to let you know I’m gonna do my best for you.”

Tsukishima stands and straightens his back.

“I’ll visit you again.”

_Soon._

**Author's Note:**

> why not start off the week with some good ole' angst?? I'm so excited to be a part of this event! please stay tuned as I will try to write for every single day!


End file.
